


Lion's Share

by sammysouffle



Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Drug Use, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Revenge, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29321709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammysouffle/pseuds/sammysouffle
Summary: An arrogant man arrives in Hollyoaks to reconnect with his family but finds out something that changes his life forever.
Relationships: Eric Hutchinson/James Nightingale, James Nightingale/John Paul McQueen, James Nightingale/Original Male Character(s), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Kudos: 5





	1. Dazed and Confused

[](https://ibb.co/RSCmVhx)   


Eric’s Dodger Charger comes to a screeching halt in front of the “No Parking” sign. He puts on his sunglasses and as he gets out of the car, he buttons up his suit jacket.

“Oi! You can’t see the sign?” A hulking man with dark hair approaches him. “It’s a no-parking zone.”

Eric rolls his eyes behind his glasses and takes out his keys from his pocket and throws them at the man. “Park it for me then,” he says on his way inside the pub. Eric hears footsteps behind him and soon he is grabbed from behind. Before he can react, he finds himself slammed into the bar. Strong hands wrap around his coat lapels and he finds the hulking man peering down at him.

“Do I look like a valet to you?!” He growls right into Eric’s face.

“You’re right, valets have more class.” The edges of Eric’s lips twitch with a smirk and he reaches into his pocket. He takes out a couple hundred quid and throws them at the other man’s face. “But I suppose I’ll just have to make do with you right now.”

The Hulk’s eyes turn red with anger and he shakes Eric, “You pompous arsehole!”

Eric doesn’t make any moves to push him away because the man is entertaining and not to mention… hot. “Who are you?!”

“Sylver! What are you doing?!” A raspy, unfamiliar voice says from somewhere and soon a skinny brunette appears next to the Hulk’s shoulder. “Let him go!”

“No! This dirtbag needs to be taught a lesson!”

“Sylver!” She attempts to pull him away again. “You can’t treat customers like that! We’re struggling as it is!”

Ah. Interesting. Eric files that information away in the back of his mind for later.

The grip loosens on his lapels and the Hulk… sorry… Sylver pulls away, letting Eric go. Eric gets up from the counter and straightens his coat before turning his attention to the woman. “Thanks, sweetheart. Hot and smart,” he says, trailing his eyes from top to bottom. “I love that combo in a woman.”

A right hook lands right across Eric’s face, almost knocking him to the floor. “Fuck!” he howls in pain.

“Sylver!”

“That’s my wife! How dare you?” Sylver aka Hulk grabs at Eric’s jacket and slams him against the counter again. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Sylver, let him go!” The woman tries to pull her husband away from Eric but fails once again.

Eric just hangs out against the bar, his jaw throbbing, but he again does not push the man away.

“What is going on he- Oh my god, Eric!” A fresh voice gets Eric’s attention.

“Sylver, what are you doing?” It’s Verity. “Let him go!” She also tries to help Sylver’s wife pull him away from Eric and together the two women succeed.

“Let me go!”

“What did he do?” Verity asks as Eric gets up from the counter and straightens his coat again.

“Who is he?!” Sylver snarls like a bull ready to charge again.

“He’s my brother!”

“He’s your wot?” The landlady asks.

“Her brother,” Eric chimes in. “I could more to you if you ever decide to leave this… neanderthal.”

Sylver tries to attack him again, but Verity gets in front of him to stop him. “Sylver, I just got you out of jail 3 days ago. Don’t make me send you back.”

“Fine!” Sylver huffs. “But take him away from here before I beat the shit out of him.”

“Brother, come on!” Verity says, grabbing Eric’s arm and dragging him away.

“But I thought we were here to drink.”

“Well, not anymore. Because you cannot keep your mouth shut, it seems.”

Eric pulls his arm out of his sister’s grip when they are outside. “Verity, stop! Let me take a proper look at you first. I have not seen you in eighteen years!”

A gorgeous smile spreads across the young woman’s face and she squeals with excitement before throwing her arms around his neck. “Oh, Eric! I cannot believe you are _actually_ here.”

Eric wraps his arms around her and pulls her close, sighing into her hair. It has been a long time since he has held someone from his own family in his arms. When they part, Eric lets his hands rest on Verity’s shoulders. “You look so much like Mother. The same hair. The same eyes. I am so sorry I was not there for her funeral.”

The smile fades from Verity’s face, and she removes his hands. “Where were you, brother? When mother passed, I needed you. I needed my big brother.” Her voice cracks a little.

Eric hangs his head in shame and sighs, “I am sorry, Verity. I couldn’t do it. I could not come back for her funeral and see her like that… lying there in a casket.”

“How do you think-” Verity stops mid-sentence and composes herself. Again, something mother did when she got too emotional. “This is not the place to have this conversation. Let us go back to my office.”

The two of them walk in silence, and Eric can feel the tension brewing between them. Once they reach a small blue office, Verity takes out the keys from her purse and opens the door for them. Eric looks around and the interior has him blowing a low whistle. “Impressive, sister.”

The office has a blue interior, just like the exterior. There are soft yellow lights all around the office, and panel doors separate the offices from one another. The brown furniture could be better, but they go with the walls so Eric can forgive that.

Eric takes a seat at the nearest desk and turns his attention to his sister again. “You have every right to be angry with me.”

“Yes, I do,” Verity says, disappointment lacing her voice. “You left without saying so much as a goodbye. For most of my life, I did not know where you were, how you were, were you even alive? How could you do that to me?”

“I had my reasons to leave, Verity.”

“What reasons?” Verity asks. When Eric says nothing and instead looks at the floor, she continues. “Okay, let’s say you had your reasons to leave, but the least you could do was stay in contact. Did you even know about the plane crash?”

“Yes, I did… father told me.”

“Father knew? Of course, he did,” Verity scoffs. “He knew where you were and he never told mother and me.”

Eric sighs and looks up at her. “He couldn’t. There are things you don’t know, Verity, and it’s for the best that you don’t. Where is father anyway? I haven’t heard from him in well over a year.”

Verity’s bright blue eyes darken, and all the colour drains from her face. “Brother---” She stops to bite down on her lower lip. “Father… he… he passed away last year.”

The ground pulls right from under Eric’s feet. “W- what?” He whispers. “No. This can’t be. He can’t be dead.”

“It’s the truth, brother. He---” she chokes “I am so sor-”

Eric kicks the chair back as he shoots up from it, causing Verity to almost jump out of her own seat. He paces back and forth, trying to make sense of all of this. How could father be dead? How could he just leave him?

“Why didn’t you tell me when I contacted you on Facebook?”

“I did not want to tell you over Facebook. That wouldn’t be the right thing to do.”

“I had the right to know, Verity!”

“I am sorry,” Verity pleads.

“I need a drink,” he says, heading towards the door.

“Eric, listen.”

He doesn’t. He needs to sort his thoughts. Instead, he heads off in the direction of the club he saw earlier.

***

University students crawl all over the Loft, and Eric tries to ignore the thumping music, as he makes his way to the bar.

“Macallan, neat,” he tells the bartender when she approaches him. “Thanks, love.”

Sighing, Eric pinches the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. He has never been one to cry, but the news of his father’s death hit him hard. It also raised many questions. What happened? How did he die? Was he ill? Was it an accident?

A hand on his shoulder gets Eric’s attention. He looks over to find Verity standing there with an apologetic look on her face. “Eric, can we talk? In private, if you do not mind?”

“I do not have to speak with you,” Eric says adamantly. “You lied to me.”

“I did not lie. I just avoided certain truths.”

“I asked you how father was and you told me he was well. How is that not a lie?” When his drink appears in front of him, Eric knocks it back in one go and slams the glass on the counter. He ignores the burn in his throat and stomach as he says, “Another one.” The bartender gives him and Verity a look before getting him another drink. Eric knocks back that one as well. “Another.”

“Eric, stop!” Verity stops him with a hand on his arm.

Eric pulls his arm out of her grip, “Another,” he tells the bartender who rolls her eyes before getting him another scotch. “Thanks, darlin’,” he says, winking at her and ignoring Verity.

“I am not walking away until you talk to me, brother.” They really are siblings. Stubborn to a t.

Eric knocks back his next drink and feels the effects of it when his entire body warms up and his mind feels a little foggy.

“Another,” he says, continuing to ignore his sister.

“How about I just leave the entire bottle here?” The bartender says looking between him and Verity before sighing and walking away.

Eric picks up the bottle and pours himself another drink. His insides burn once again as he knocks it back.

“Eric, stop!” Verity takes the bottle out of his hand. “You know what… if this is how we’re having this conversation…” She leans over the bar and gets herself a glass before pouring the Macallan. “Cheers, brother,” she says, tipping her glass towards him. The younger Hutchinson coughs when she knocks back her own drink.

“You have no right to be angry with me,” she tells him. “You should have been here. Maybe if you were, then things would be different.”

“I told you! I had my reasons to leave!” Eric tells her again. She was getting on his nerves.

“What reasons, brother?”

“I cannot tell you that.”

“And that right there is the problem.” Verity scoffs. “You are so much like our father. Full of secrets.”

“And you are as open as a book,” Eric says sarcastically. “You should have told me that father was dead.”

“What difference would that have made? He’s gone. And it’s probably for the best.”

“How could you say that, Verity? He was our father!” Eric sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose once again. “You know what. I do not have to stand here and listen to this. I will see you around.” With that, he takes another drink and throws a few hundred quid on the counter before heading towards the door.

But before Eric can make it out the door, a man at a booth captures his attention. The man is about the same age and height as Eric. Not a strand of his dark hair is out of place, and a neatly trimmed beard covers his face. Then there are his eyes… Eric cannot tell whether they are green or grey.

“Jackpot,” Eric thinks to himself before heading towards the booth. He needed to take someone home tonight and take his mind off everything that happened, and this man was perfect. Eric could just imagine him writhing and moaning under him.

Eric slides into the seat in front of the dark-haired man who narrows his eyes at him, “Can I help you?”

“Yes. Only you can help me.” There is a slight slur in Eric’s voice. “I am Eric,” he says, sticking out his hand towards the other man.

The man looks between Eric’s hand and his face and cocks an eyebrow at him. “I am not interested,” he says.

“Well, I usually like to know the name of the men and women I take to bed, but if you prefer not to share your name, then that’s fine with me too.”

The man suddenly looks a little startled, causing Eric to smirk.

“You just assume I would sleep with you? That is bold of you.”

“Not assume. I know you will.”

The man scoffs. “Aren’t you overly confident? Also, not my type.”

“I am everyone’s type,” Eric informs him.

“Nice comeback. You thought of that one all by your lonesome self?”

“What can I say? I lose my wits about me in the presence of a man as gorgeous as yourself.”

“Hey babe,” a fresh voice says from somewhere beside him.

Eric looks up to find a blond, clean-shaven man standing there. He was slightly shorter than Eric and was clutching onto his brown messenger bag. The man looked like he belonged in a boy band 10 years ago.

“Who’s your friend?” The blond asks.

“Not my friend. I don’t even know him,” the dark-haired man informs, who Eric presumes is his partner.

Not that that deters Eric from his pursuit.

“Eric… Hutchinson,” Eric says, sticking out his hand towards the blond man.

“John Paul McQueen,” the man introduces himself before sliding next to his partner in the booth. “So Hutchinson? A family of Tony’s I presume?”

“He’s my half brother I hear.”

“You hear?”

“Never met him,” replies Eric.

“So how is a half-brother of Tony’s American?” John Paul asks curiously.

“Not American. Just lived in America half of my life.”

“Ah… interesting. Well, it was nice meeting you, Eric. But my fiance and I best get going. We have reservations… at your brother’s restaurant, actually.”

“Half-brother,” Eric reminds him.

“Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Eric tells John Paul. “So the two of you? Engaged, huh?”

That causes the dark-haired man (whose name Eric still did not know) to smirk. He leans back and throws his arm around his fiance.

“Yes, no wedding date set yet, but we are hoping for a Winter wedding.”

“Well, congratulations,” Eric says, looking between the two.

“Anyway, it was a pleasure meeting you, Eric. Are you in the village for a while?” John Paul asks.

“I have actually moved here. Starting work in the Dee Valley Hospital ER next week.”

“Oh wow, then we’ll be seeing you around.”

The two men get out of their seats and Eric shakes hands with John Paul one more time, but the dark-haired man makes no move to do the same.

Eric watches them leave and smirks to himself. Winter wedding, huh? Then he has plenty of time to get John Paul’s fiance into his bed and Eric never backs down or loses a challenge.


	2. Carry On Wayward Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric has an eventful day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Sexual content in this chapter!

The sheets tangle around their bodies as Eric flips them over and presses the woman underneath him. He pins her to the bed and lets his cock penetrate her repeatedly until she is a writhing, moaning mess. “Fuck me,” she cries. “Fuck me hard.”

“Is that what you like?” Eric thrusts into her a little harder, making her cry out once more. “To be fucked like a whore?”

Her cheeks turn as red as the silk sheets under them. “Yes,” she mumbles.

“What was that?” Eric stops moving. “I did not hear you?”

“I said yes! Now move!” She demands.

“You are in no position to demand anything of me, Maxine,” says Eric. “Now I will move if you ask me nicely.”

“Eric, please move,”

“Well, then...” Eric trails off and starts moving again. Maxine clings onto him for dear life, wrapping her legs around his waist. The sounds of their moans along with the creak of the bed fill the room.

“Fuck, I am so close.” Maxine whimpers into his ear.

Eric presses his hand between their bodies and rubs his thumb over her clit. “Come for me, sweetheart.” And that’s all it takes...

Eric does not stop. He continues to fuck into her until she is a whimpering mess. It does not take long for him to come inside the condom. The sounds of their heavy breathing fill the room and Eric leans down to hungrily kiss her once again before collapsing on his back next to her. He takes off the condom, ties it, and tosses it into the bin next to the nightstand.

“That was…” Maxine stops and catches her breath. “...wow”

“You’re welcome.” Eric’s lips twitch as he turns to look at her.

“You are so full of yourself.”

“That I am,” Eric replies proudly and sits up on the bed. “So how much do I owe you?”

Maxine looks shocked at the question and quickly sits up beside him. “Excuse me?”

Eric picks up his wallet from the nightstand and takes out a couple hundred quid from it. “How much---” Before he can finish his sentence, his cheek stings, and loud slap echoes through the room.

“I am not a prostitute!” Maxine yells as she scrambles out of bed

“But last night you---”

“I what?!”

“You said I looked like I needed someone to talk to... that’s usually code,” Eric replies, feeling thoroughly confused.

“I was just trying to be nice! What type of man are you? Who thinks “You look like you could use someone to talk to” is code for “I have sex for money”?” She asks as she quickly puts on her clothes and gives him a pointed look.

“I do not understand what you want me to say.”

“That you’re sorry?”

“For what?” Eric asks. “It was a genuine mistake.”

“You--- you are an arsehole!” With that, she storms out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Eric shrugs, falls back into his bed, and lets sleep take over him once again.

***

It’s nine am when Eric finally wakes up again. Putting on his gym shorts and forgoing a shirt, he goes out for a run. His half naked state gains him both appreciative and judgmental looks. When he runs by the pub, the landlady even blows him a wolf-whistle while her husband sends death glares his way.

As he passes Dee Valley Law, he stops outside, and wonders if he should go inside. He has answered no calls or messages from Verity since last night, so he should probably speak with her. The door is closed, but Eric tries his luck and turns the doorknob, anyway.

“Hello?” He calls out, looking around at the empty office.

“How may I help y---”

Eric smirks when he finds a familiar face in front of him. It is the guy from the previous night. Eric finds the man giving him an appreciative look from top to bottom.

“Oh… there are so many ways you can help me, sweetheart,” Eric replies.

The other man cocks an eyebrow at him, “Yes, and how do you propose I do that?”

“How about you come over here and I will tell you…”

“And why can you not come over here?” The man asks, sitting at the edge of a nearby desk.

“Ahh…” Eric trails off, but he makes no move to get closer to the other man. Instead, he stands against the desk behind him and crosses his arms across his chest. “I know what this is.”

“And what might that be?”

“Power play. But let me tell you, darlin’, I don’t come first,” Eric lets the double entendre hang in the air.

The man chuckles and shrugs his shoulder, “Then I guess we will never know how I could help you.”

The two of them stare at each other, neither of them willing to back down and blink first. This is a pleasant, if not frustrating, change from last night.

“I thought I was not your type?” Eric asks

“And I thought you were everyone’s type,” the man throws back. “But yes, you are still not my type. I am just bored.”

“I know of ways I could get rid of that boredom for you,” Eric suggests.

“Then I guess you will have to come first.” The man smirks. “I mean… I guess you will have to come over here first.”

“Hiya James!”

Eric turns around when he hears a familiar voice and finds Maxine by the door. Shit.

“YOU! WHAT ARE YOU DOING OVER HERE?!” She yells, stomping over to the desk where Eric is sat.

“You two seem well acquainted,” the other man -James- quips

“Yes, we had the misfortune of meeting last night,” Maxine replies

“You had an eventful night last night.”

Eric looks over to find James smirking at him again.

“Oh, come on, you enjoyed last night,” Eric reminds Maxine.

“Well, I didn’t enjoy this morning.”

“Liar,” Eric winks. “You sounded like you enjoyed this morning very much.”

A tint of red appears on Maxine’s cheeks. “Okay, fine, the sex was great, but what about after that? You thought I was a prostitute!”

Behind them James chokes on a laugh and both of them look over at him and he throws his hands up in surrender. “Oh, please go ahead, do not stop on my account. Though, Maxine, may I remind you you were a prostitute not that long ago?”

“Not by choice!” Maxine claims. “By the way, I am still awaiting an apology.”

“For what?” Eric asks. “I have nothing to apologize for.”

“For being so disrespectful!” Says Maxine. “By the way, why are you half naked?”

“Is it distracting?”

Maxine gulps but then shakes her head. “Of course not! There is nothing distracting about this…” she says, waving her hands around at Eric’s bare chest.

“What is going on here?” Oh great, it was Verity. “Eric? Why are you half naked in our office?”

“Because running around fully naked is frowned upon,” Eric replies.

Verity lets out an exasperated sigh as she comes to a stop next to Maxine. “Why are you here?”

“Why? Can I not come and see my sister?”

“Sister?!” Both Maxine and James say at the same time and look at each other.

“Yes, this is my brother, Eric Nathanial Hutchinson,” Verity introduces him and Eric frowns.

“Did you have to tell them my middle name?”

“Yes,” Verity admits. “And these are James and Maxine.”

Eric waves at them and Maxine glares at him while James just looks smug.

“Now how about we go into my office and have a talk?” Verity suggests.

“Nice to meet you, James… and Maxine,” Eric winks at them before following his sister to her office.

***

“What did you do, Eric?” Verity asks once she shuts the door behind them.

“What do you mean?” Eric asks, confused.

“James and Maxine seemed displeased with you,” Verity replies.

“And here I thought that was their default.”

“Eric…”

“It is not important, Verity,” Eric informs her. “What is important is our conversation from last night.”

“I would like to apologize again for not telling you the truth,” says Verity. “But this is not something I wanted to tell you over Facebook and before that--- before that I didn’t even know where you were. Why did you leave, Eric?”

“I had my reasons,” Eric replies

“That is not good enough.”

“Well, tough, that is all you are getting.”

“I asked father,” Verity sighs taking a seat at her desk. “He said you ran away. I never believed him.”

Eric gulps and slowly nods his head, “Yes, I ran away,” he easily lies. “I needed to get away from it all.”

“From me?” Verity’s big blue eyes widen as she sadly looks up at him.

“From everyone,” he lies once again. Eric clears his throat and laughs, leaning against the wall, “No need to get so emotional, sis. I was a troubled 18-year-old, full of myself, thought I could take over the world so I left.”

“Are you sure? There was nothing else?” Verity asks again.

“Of course not! I ran away to Scotland, stayed there for a while before I got the opportunity to go to America. I ran out of money so I contacted dad and that’s how he knew where I was. Once I got to America, reality slapped me right in the face. Or maybe that was Lady Liberty…. No literally, I once got slapped by a woman dressed as Lady Liberty; long story.”

That makes Verity giggle.

“I worked odd jobs, used dad’s money to put myself through college, and then med school. And now here I am.” He ends the story by spreading his arms and spinning around.

“Here you are… half naked in my office,” Verity says with a shake of her head.

“So what about you? Hot shot lawyer, huh? What happened to the 8-year-old who cried all the time and grassed on me to mother?

“She grew up,” Verity tells him. “I stayed behind with father and mother, as you know. I was there when the… plane crash happened. Mother died and father became lost. I tried my best to support him but that was not enough.”

“I am sorry for not being there,” Eric sighs.

“Yes, me too,” Verity scoffs. “You were too busy living your dream.”

“That is not fair, Verity.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Verity asks. “You left me to pick up the pieces while you were out there living your best life.” She takes in a deep breath and continues, “You know what? I will not dwell in the past. You are here now. We can be a family again. You, me, Tony.”

“Tony. Right. When do I get to meet him?”

“How about tonight?” Verity asks. “You can come over for dinner?”

Eric thinks about it before nodding, “Okay. How does 8 sound?”

***

With a wine bottle in one hand, Eric uses the other to ring the doorbell. He is not sure if he made the right move coming here today. He is not even sure how Tony and his family would react to him. Would they even accept him? The door opens and for a moment it leaves Eric dumbfounded. A red-haired woman stands before him and she is a spitting image of their mu---

“Eric! You are here!” Verity excitedly announces and throws her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “Eric, this is Diane, Tony’s wife, and Diane, this is Eric, my brother.” Eric blankly stares at the woman. Her resemblance to their mother is uncanny.

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Eric sticks out his hand towards Diane and she looks at his hand and up at him before a smile spreads across her face.

“Oh, come here!” She says pulling him in for a hug. “We don’t shake hands in this family.”

And just like that, Eric already feels welcome.

Tony is the same. He, too, pulls Eric into a tight hug, and thumps his back, “It’s nice to finally meet you, brother.” Brother. That one word resonates in Eric’s ear. He finally feels like he is home.

***

Dinner is quiet but not awkward. There is a comfortable silence in the room with only sounds of their chewing echoing through it.

“Dinner was splendid, thank you so much,” Eric says, wiping off his lips with the napkin after he has finished. “Verity definitely was not exaggerating when she said you were quite the Chef.”

“Verity told you about us?” Tony sounds surprised.

“Yes, of course,” Eric replies. “She would not stop talking about you lot, especially you, Tony. Our sister has a lot of respect and love for you.”

“Eric, stop!” Verity says, embarrassed.

“Oh no, please go on,” Tony chuckles. “So what made you come back to England after 18 years?”

That drops off the smile from Eric’s face and he clears his throat.

“Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.” Tony seems to pick up on his discomfort.

“Oh no, you do not have to apologize,” Eric tells him. “This has to come at some point.”

He gets curious looks from Tony, Diane, and Verity. Eric releases a soft sigh before saying, “My husband passed away a year ago and I needed a change.”

Silence falls through the room once again. Eric flinches when a hand finds its way on top of his. He looks up to find Verity giving him a sympathetic look.

“I am so sorry,” says Tony. “I didn’t mean to bring back painful memories for you.”

“That’s fine, brother.” Brother. The word easily escapes Eric’s lips, much to his own surprise. “It happened a year ago, I am mostly over it.”

Eric finds Diane and Tony giving each other a look, and he knows what they must be thinking. How could Eric bounce back from this so quickly? He hasn’t. But he wasn’t about to show anyone else what was really feeling.

“So what happened, if you don’t mind my asking?” Diane asks.

“It was an accident.” Eric leaves it at that.

“Sorry about that. That must have been tough. Losing someone so suddenly.”

Eric shrugs his shoulders, “It is what it is. Little did I know, Sam was not the only one I had lost.”

Eric could feel a chill in the air at the mention of father’s death. Another uncomfortable silence befalls and Eric look between the three adults to find them looking at each other as if to decide who would speak first.

“So what happened to father? He was a healthy man from what I could tell.”

Tony clears his throat before speaking up, “His death was accidental too.”

“Accidental?” Eric whispers. “Was it a car accident?”

Tony’s grip tightens around his fork. Eric could see he was trying to hold back his anger, which confused him more.

“Oh, just tell him, Tony!” Verity chimes in. “There is no need to sugarcoat things for him.”

“Verity.” Diane shakes her head.

“He has every right to know who our father really was!”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Asks Eric.

“Eric,” Verity lays her hand on top of his again. “Our father--- he did things. He hurt Tony and Diane. Almost destroyed them.”

No. That did not sound like the Edward Hutchinson Eric knew. Father would never do such a thing.

“Tony, if you don’t tell him, then I will!” Verity says adamantly.

“Edward, he…” Tony trails off. Discomfort obvious in his voice. He lets out a deep sigh before continuing, “Our three-month-old that you just met?”

Eric nods hesitantly.

“He’s your brother, not your nephew.”

The ground seems to slip from right under Eric’s feet. “W-what?” He stutters.

“Edward became obsessed with Diane--” Tony continues and reaches out to take his wife’s hand. “---and he did everything in his power to separate us.”

Tony continues to tell him everything that happened from father faking Tony’s brain tumor to almost killing Diane.

“He tried killing me with a poisoned mince pie… but he accidentally ended up eating it himself.

Tony’s story leaves Eric dumbfounded. He has to admit that most of it sounds made up. Faking a brain tumor, dosing Tony with testosterone, and almost killing Tony with a minced pie of all things? None of it sounded even remotely true.

“You’re lying,” Eric says when Tony finishes his story.

“Excuse me?”

“I said you’re lying!” Eric kicks his chair back and flies out of it. “I knew my father and he would do none of this.”

“You knew Edward eighteen years ago!” Tony says standing up as well.

“That does not matter,” Eric tells him. “Father was a loving and caring man who would do anything to protect his children.”

“Well, maybe that’s who he was to you but did everything in his power to destroy me.”

“Eric, Tony is telling the truth,” says Verity. “I also put father on a pedestal, but he was not worth it.”

“I know what this is,” Eric says. “The two of you… you are the reason father is dead and to cover your tracks, you are putting the blame on him, knowing that he is not here to defend himself.”

“Excuse me?” Tony asks, taking a step towards him.

Eric does not back down. “Yes, you are the reason father is dead!” He says pointing at Tony’s chest.

“Don’t you point at me!” Tony says, getting up in Eric’s face. “You do not know what I’ve been through. What that man put my family through!”

“You’re an ungrateful brat!” Eric yells. “Probably that’s the reason father left you and your mom all those years ago!”

“Don’t you talk shit about my mum!” Tony grabs a fistful of Eric’s shirt. Eric does the same to him. Both of them get their fists up, ready to start a fight when Verity gets in between them.

“Boys, stop!” She yells, pushing them apart. “Do you not see it? Even from the grave he is tearing us apart.”

“You know what, Eric?” Says Tony “Get out of my house!”

“Yeah, I have no interest in being here either, listening to the two of your talk shit about my father.”

***

Eric slams the door shut behind him and angrily throws his jacket to the floor when he’s home. He picks up a bottle of whisky from the kitchen and doesn’t bother getting himself a glass as he opens the bottle and drinks directly from it. He ignores the burn in his throat and Tony’s fake story runs through his head repeatedly. It can’t be true, can it? Could father really do all of those things? He paces the floor as he takes another swig from the bottle. Why would Tony say all of that? Why would he make up such an elaborate lie? None of it made sense. Was father really an evil man? A million different questions run through his head.

Finding his bottle of Adderall, Eric pops two pills and follows it by taking another large swig from the whiskey bottle. He slides down the island in his kitchen before taking another large gulp and splutters all over himself and the floor.

No, father was not the man Verity and Tony claimed he was. Father saved Eric. Kept him from going behind bars eighteen years ago. How could Eric even think that he was a bad person? No, Verity and Tony were the bad ones. They probably killed father for his money and came up with bizarre stories to make him the bad guy in all of this.

Eric could not allow them to get away with it. They needed to pay for what they had done. And Eric was going to make sure that they did.


End file.
